Brave, not perfect

I awoke to 2019 old enough to know better. To know better than to expect a shiny new feeling in a shiny new year. But I awoke content in the moment. I hope you did too.

I chose hearty oatmeal with my youngest rather than a morning aerobics class. Talk about “old enough to know better.” In my prime, I used to awaken on New Year’s Day more in need of an Alka-Seltzer than aerobics or oatmeal. My, how our choices change.

This morning, fittingly, I talked to my oldest son as he begins a new chapter in his life. Sounding excited as he drove through cornfields on a country highway, he is on his way to what I hope is a wonderful new adventure for him—college. He is approaching this adventure as he does all others, leaping in with both feet without looking both ways before crossing. In decades past, I was there to grab his little hand and make sure he didn’t rush into traffic. Now, as he rushes into what I can only call the traffic of “real life,” I hope he pauses every now and then.

I awoke my mop-headed youngest for breakfast. He sat at the table, still sleepy-eyed. And I was happy I still have one boy not yet a man. I can be content in the moment but look too far ahead and—oy. Who knows, right?

I see both of my sons take one step after another into their futures. It takes bravery, doesn’t it? For each of us to continue into an uncertain future, hoping for joy and goodness to be awaiting our arrival.

It hit me, as I reflected on a brand new year, that I may have been doing it all wrong for all these years. I have written about being raised to be perfect. Silly, unattainable standard but in my parents’ household, it was law. You know what that made me? Very good at very few things. Unless I had a natural talent for it, I wasn’t attempting it. Because rather than applause for my effort, I got heaps of criticism for my lack of prowess.

2019 seems a good year to continue to reverse that pattern. This year, I will aim for brave, not perfect. I will sing karaoke off-key, paint yet another awful still-life, perhaps run a very slow first 5K. Or not. The point is to go where the spirit moves me to go without worrying about how I look, how good the outcome is, what others think.

Brave in a quiet way. Not with bravado, arms waving and mouth going. Just doing my thing. In the moment—not too far ahead or lingering behind.

Funny, I have tried to raise my boys to value bravery versus perfection. I guess it’s time to truly absorb the lesson myself. Let’s put the lid on this one.

Happy 2019, friends. Wishing you a year filled with new adventures, victories, failures and all good things that make us grow. I will be here, in the moment and hopefully smiling, as I go. You too? Good. Keep me posted.

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Sounds like your ‘growing older’ gracefully and realizing what you can/can’t do or be. Our son is married with kids, going through some oft he same things that we did. I watch and think, ‘he will do fine’, then find myself thinking more about us and how we’ll do in the coming times. It’s the other end of the timeline and she is the focus, again.

It certainly is a marathon, not a sprint. And it’s hard to not want them to learn on us instead of through their own (sometimes painful) experiences. But I guess that’s what we’re all here for, right? Thanks for sharing.

Being brave, and doing one’s best at whatever we do, seems like a good motto, my friend. Your posts have such discernment. You’re a terrific mom and you’re a treasure. Happy new year to you and the young men.

I look at my new-born grandson and think “you are perfect”. I hope he also grows to be brave and seize the world and all it offers with both hands, without the need to be “perfect” in meeting the expectations of others. I also know I have grown old enough to be a grandmother – how did that happen!? – and learned lots of lessons along he way. Another lovely, thoughtful post from you to kick off 2019. I wish you and your boys all good things – and many adventures!

Thank you, Lee! That grandson of yours is perfect. He is simply adorable. And I am sure with a grandmother like you, he will grow to know and love himself, rather than feeling he has to fit into the world’s narrow definition of perfection.

Being brave is hard, she said, as she packed up her son’s room–after 3 years at university, it is very clear that he won’t be returning to us for more than just a weekend here or there, and I need somewhere to put my things when I move back home permanently to start the great daily commute to work. I think my heart is breaking a little more with each box I put into storage. Anyway, all the best to your boy as he starts his new journey, and Happy New Year to you, my friend!

Oh man. Not easy. I understand. My son’s school is Year-round, without the traditional summer break. So this feels like it could be the beginning of him really venturing on his own. We will see. I guess this means that we have done our jobs well, right? When they launch? But it also ushers in a time of life for parents that feels like it is somehow the beginning of the end. I don’t mean to sound morbid. It’s just that it feels odd to be at this stage of life when I still feel so very young inside :-). I hope you are able to embrace the change and not be too sad.

Thanks for this and for listening. I keep thinking I should be happy that he’s able to go off into the big world with confidence but it feels like an important time in my life is just over. Anyway, he’s happy and that’s the main thing😊

I can relate to so much of what you wrote. It’s time for me to be brave and not perfect too. To risk, to fall, to keep on or not. To experiment. Thanks for sharing your heart and wisdom. To a braver, kinder year.

I think our parents must have gone to the same parenting school!
Honestly though, I love this post and although I don’t do resolutions or new-year-new-slate stuff, I’m with you on this one.
Happy Brave New Year